I sometimes feel strange talking about being autistic because it feels so new to me. But, of course, it isn’t. I have been autistic my whole life, I just wasn’t aware of it until recently.
I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say that discovering I’m autistic has changed my life, and possibly even saved it.
I have done what I imagine most late diagnosed /late discovered autistics do and dived right down into it, reading and listening to everything I can find about it. Consuming research, stories, statistics and building out a network of others whose brains work like mine.
And I have never felt so seen or understood.
I have seen my struggles, my experiences and myself reflected again and again in the stories of others. Which of course isn’t to say that all autistic people are the same, but there are some key themes that I have seen over and over. And they are incredibly sad to see.
Themes of feeling ‘broken’ and ‘wrong’ or ‘alien’. Of trying to figure out what the problem within us is and to ‘fix’ it. Of never feeling like we are doing enough. Of trying so desperately to fit in and feel like we belong in the world. Of having to hide our true feelings and ways of experiencing the world because of the repeated feedback that we are wrong, we are too much, we are making a scene. Of misdiagnoses, of mental health struggles, of not wanting to be here, of being constantly invalidated to the point where we no longer trust ourselves. Of zero self-esteem. Of ‘treatment’ from people whose role it is to help us that actually made it worse. And, above everything else, feeling completely and utterly alone.
I have probably cried more in the last six months than I have in the last few years. And that is not because I found out that I’m autistic. I am not grieving, except perhaps for the little girl who didn’t realise who she was. I am happy I am autistic and more than anything I am happy that I now know this incredibly important fact about myself.
It has been incredibly validating to see and hear from others whose stories are so similar and make me feel seen and less alone. I genuinely always thought I was the only person who felt like me, because I didn’t see or hear anyone talking about experiencing the world in the way that I did. So, knowing now that it isn’t just me, and that others understand the world and themselves in the way that I do, is amazing and has brought a great sense of community that I’ve never had before. But then that means that there are all these people out there who feel or felt the way that I did, and that makes me sadder than I can put into words because I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I hated myself, I didn’t understand myself and I felt like I never belonged.
There is so much negativity out there about autism and I do understand some of it. I have struggles because I’m autistic, and I know others have significantly worse than me, because bits of it can be really, really hard.
Do I wish I wasn’t autistic? No. It is a fundamental part of who I am and I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t, but I certainly wouldn’t be me.
I do wish I knew earlier, and I am sad for the children and adults out there who don’t have that key piece of information about themselves.
So, let’s talk about it more, because then perhaps they can also see themselves reflected in our stories and find themselves and their answers too.